


The Captain's Daughter

by Whedonista93



Series: Soul Mate AU [12]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Family, Hydra (Marvel), Soulmates, Super Soldier Serum, sort of kid fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 02:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: Hydra thought she would be their ultimate weapon. They didn't count on Steve Roger's moral compass being genetic.





	The Captain's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos to aggiepuff for the beta! Don't know what I would do without you!

1947

“Who is she?”

“Biologically or in the grand scheme of things?”

“Grand scheme.”

“She will be Hydra’s greatest weapon.”

 

* * *

 

1952

“You will train her,” his handler commands.

 

The Soldier nods - he will be told if he is meant to speak with his superiors. His handler leaves. The Soldier does not delude himself that means they are alone. They are always watched, especially here.

 

The solemn girl in front of him has blonde braids and blue eyes that the Soldier instinctively knows would be more familiar if they held a spark of mischief.

 

He squats in front of her. "Что ты называешь, маленький?"

 

“Jamie Grant,” the girl answers, quiet, but clear.  "Как мне позвонить?"

 

“English!” A harsh voice barks out of a speaker in the corner.

 

“What am I to call you?” Jamie repeats in English.

 

“Teacher,” the Soldier answers, “or Soldier.”

 

“You do not have a name?” Jamie tilts her head curiously.

 

“None that I remember.”

 

* * *

 

1953

 

A year after they meet, the girl goes on her first mission with the Soldier. A man traveling with a child who has his eyes draws less attention than a man traveling alone to a rural MidWest town in America.

 

It is winter, so the Soldier can wear long sleeves without drawing attention. They had tried to train such things out of her, but the girl’s excitement to be on a steamboat has her nearly vibrating out of her pale skin. Fortunately, the picture it paints serves the purpose of their mission.

 

“Papa, papa!” She points to the steam billowing out the pipes. “Look at it, Papa!”

 

She had not been half so excited about the train ride from Moscow to London. Neither had the Soldier.

 

He smiles down at her indulgently. “I see it, маленький ;

 

 

Two days after they hit open water, when the Soldier is certain Hydra did not send any handlers on the boat with them, he takes Jamie and slips through the shadows into the boiler room where he finds a vice large enough for his arm. He slips out of his shirt and silently gestures for the girl to clamp it over his arm. She looks at him strangely, but obeys, as she has been trained to obey. He has checked both their persons and their clothes for bugs already, but he can make no guarantees about his arm.

 

Once his arms is clamped securely, he meets the girls eyes. “I remembered who I am, Jamie.”

 

Her little face lights up in the realest smile he has ever seen. “Finally! I was beginning to worry I would have to tell you.”

 

His face goes slack. “What?”

 

“Tell me,” she demands.

 

“My name was James Barnes. I’m from Brooklyn. I was a sergeant in the United States Army during World War Two. My friends and family called me Bucky.”

 

Jamie’s smile finally reaches her eyes. “What made you remember?”

 

Bucky shrugs as best as he is able with one shoulder trapped by a vice. “They’ve left me out of cryo too long. My brain started fixing itself after the first two months.”

 

Jamie nods slowly, a thoughtful look on her face.

 

He decides to throw what little caution is left to the wind. “And because of you, little one. You remind me of someone I knew.”

 

“Steve.”

 

Bucky looks at her sharply. “How did you know that?”

 

Jamie shrugs and glances at her feet as red colors her cheeks. “The handlers talk around me. They think because I am small I do not hear and,” she turns redder, “I sneak into the file rooms through the vents after bedtime.”

 

Bucky laughs.

 

Jamie looks up at him through her lashes and grins when she realizes he isn’t mad. “He’s my father.”

 

Bucky chokes on his laugh. “What?”

 

“They got some of his blood somehow, during the war. After it was over they sent a man to America. He married a woman in Brooklyn named Rebecca and used Captain America’s DNA to get her pregnant.”

 

“Rebecca… my…”

 

Jamie nods, saving him from having to form the whole thought. “Rebecca Barnes. You’re my uncle.”

 

Bucky’s breath catches. “Is she… what did they…”

 

“The man they sent,” a tear falls down Jamie’s cheek, “he killed her, when I was one. He made it look like someone broke in. Then he acted sad and told people he couldn’t stay there and he took me away. Brought me to _them_.”

 

Bucky’s heart breaks. No six year old should have so much weight on their shoulders. He reaches forward with his free hand and tugs her into a one-armed embrace. She stiffens at first - neither of them is used to kind touch - but she quickly relaxes. Soon enough her sniffles turn into full on sobs that soak his chest as his own silent tears wet her hair. They cling to each other long into the night, making plans to escape when they reach America.

 

Their plans are dashed the moment they dock and a handler is waiting for them. A blonde Russian woman - after all, a whole little family will draw even less attention than a single man and his daughter. Bucky says Steve’s name in his sleep on that mission, and he is wiped and put into cryo the moment the mission is over and they return to Russia. The blonde woman becomes Jamie’s new teacher. Jamie never bothers to learn her name.

 

* * *

 

1963

 

Jamie is 17 when they send a red-haired, green-eyed girl a few years her junior into her gym with the command, “Teach her.”

 

Jamie eyes the girl shrewdly. “ "Что вы называете?" ;

 

The girl glares stonily and remains silent.

 

“ "Вы ответите на вопрос." ” A voice barks from a nearby speaker.

 

The girl complies through clenched teeth. “Natalia.”

 

Jamie’s smile would not look out of place on a shark. “Lesson one: never let your thoughts show on your face.”

 

Natalia immediately rearranges her face into a neutral mask.

 

“Good. Now, can you fight?”

 

Natalia fails to suppress a slight smirk.

 

The girl isn’t quite as strong or as fast as Jamie, but she is a quick study, and within weeks, Jamie looks forward to their sessions, because the redhead offers a challenge where no one besides Bucky has before.

 

* * *

 

1976

 

Jamie is 30 when her handlers realize she stopped aging at 23.

 

* * *

 

 

1979

 

Jamie is away on a mission when she wakes gasping, pain searing its way across her hip. Her training supersedes even the pain, and she knows she is alone in the room. She stumbles into the bathroom and flicks on the light as she yanks her shirt up and her waistband down. She stares in shock at the stark black words on her right hip. She knows about soulmarks of course, but she has long since reconciled herself to the idea that she will never have one.

 

She stares at the words for several minutes before realization dawns, right alongside horror. She can’t return to Hydra. If they find out she has a soulmate… she physically shudders at the thought. Tears stream down her face as she issues silent apologies to Bucky and Natalia and promises herself she will return for them. She grabs her go bag and runs.

 

* * *

 

 

1980

 

“Director Carter.”

 

Jamie is impressed by the older woman’s reflexes. Within seconds, she’s staring down the barrel of gun she hadn’t even realized the woman was carrying.

 

“Former Director,” Peggy corrects, “and I’m impressed enough that you got in here to let you explain yourself before I shoot, but you only have thirty seconds.”

 

“I need less than half that.” Jamie grins. “My name is Jamie Grant. I am the biological daughter of Steve Rogers. I’m a Hydra experiment that failed beyond any measure they are capable of comprehending. I’d like the chance to help you burn them to the ground.”

 

* * *

 

1999

 

Clint recognizes something in the well-concealed desperation in the red-head’s face and lowers his bow ever so slightly. He takes a deep breath. “Please let me give you a second chance at life. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

 

Something in her expression catches.

 

“Clint,” Coulson’s voice is tight, “give her your comm.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Now, Barton.”

 

Natalia eyes the man who just spoke her words warily, and doesn’t lower her gun. She does catch the comm he tosses her way, though. She doesn’t take her eyes off him as she hooks it into her ear, mouth closed, ready to run.

 

Jamie’s blessedly familiar voice comes through the other end. “I know you can fight, old friend, but now is not the time for it.”

 

Natalia immediately holsters her gun and meets the archer’s eyes. “I will come with you.”

 

Clint doesn’t register the infamous assassins words until after she’s tossed his comm back to and he’s hooked it over his ear. When he does, he freezes, gaping at her. “What did you just say?”

 

Natalia smirks.

 

“ _You_ are my soulmate?” Clint vaguely registers Coulson’s quiet but vehement cursing in his ear.

 

Her neutral mask snaps back into place. “Disappointed?”

 

Clint scoffs. “You’re kidding, right? You’re gorgeous, smart, a bit infamous, and probably even more dangerous than me. I’m a lucky son of a bitch.”

 

She barks out an unexpected laugh before slapping a hand over her mouth and recomposing herself. “Good answer.”

 

* * *

 

 

2008

 

Jamie eyes the group in front of her silently. They’re supposedly the best of the best SHIELD has to offer, but they apparently have no concept of teamwork beyond teams of 2 or 3 and Fury asked her personally to turn them into a cohesive unit. They’re already bickering among themselves. Jamie groans internally and lets out one sharp whistle. Silence falls and all eyes turn to her.

 

“For the next month,” she addresses the group, “my word is law. Those who do not fit in the group will be sent back to their previous positions. Those who I deem unfit or unworthy will lose their right to _any_ position in this organization. This lot of misfits is meant to be SHIELD’s best - the new Strike Team Alpha. Be prepared to show me you can do it. Because if you can’t, I _will_ show you the door.”

 

One of the men, dark hair, tan skin, whiskey colored eyes, and a day’s worth of stubble - just the type to make Jamie a little weak in the knees in any other situation - steps forward. Brock Rumlow, Jamie recalls from her files. “Give me one good reason to take orders from you.”

 

Jamie’s breath catches and she ducks for the briefest second to compose her face as the words across her hip burn. _That certainly explains my infatuation with the bad boy type_ , she thinks wryly. She looks up and beckons him forward with a quirk of her fingers. She has him on his back with a foot at his throat and a gun pointed at his head in seconds.

 

He taps her ankle gently before raising his hands in surrender. She steps aside and offers him a hand up. To her surprise, he takes it.

 

Standing, he smirks. “You’re the boss.”

 

Jamie rolls her eyes and turns back to group as he releases her hand. She tracks him back to his place in the group before turning to the rest of her students. “Any other objections?”

 

The tallest in the group - Jack Rollins - raises a hand. Rumlow elbows him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt.

 

Jack shoves him. “Not objecting. Just wondering what the deal is with the warehouse.”

 

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Any _relevant_ questions?”

 

Brock would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little in love with their nameless trainer by the end of the first session. He hangs back when it’s over, and flips Jack off at his knowing look. The man’s been his partner for years, and knows he has a thing for tall, mouthy blondes, but Jack doesn’t think it’s necessary for him to point it out every time Brock shows an interest.

 

She arches a brow at him when he approaches.

 

He shrugs. “I feel like I should apologize. For earlier.”

 

She shakes her head.

 

“Come on. I know you aren’t mute. You just yelled at us for six straight hours. What’s your problem with m-,” he cuts himself off as realization dawns, “with _me_?”

 

“A problem is the furthest thing I have with you,” Jamie smiles softly.

 

“Huh,” Brock huffs out a small laugh as the words on his left hip flare, “so that’s what that feels like. Wait… I was born with my words. There is no way in hell you’re older than me.”

 

Jamie’s smile wavers. “There are some things you should probably know, Brock.”

 

* * *

 

 

2011

 

_We found the Captain - N_

 

The phrase is utterly uncreative, but all those years ago, it’s what they came up with. The card the message is written on shakes in her hand until Brock gently pries it from her, pulling her into his side with his other arm.

 

His dark brows rise high when he reads it. “This mean what I think it means?”

 

Jamie nods once, sharply.

 

“Is there more to it than the obvious?” His tone is as gentle as he can make it. “I mean… did they find his bones, a frozen corpse, a zombie?”

 

Jamie chuckles and sniffles a bit before pointing at the signature. “Signed _Director_ would have been pile of bones. Signed _F_ would have been zombie or some approximation. Signed _N_ means he’s _alive_.”

 

* * *

 

2014

 

Brock gorans and flops gracelessly onto the bed, muttering into his pillow.

 

Jamie pokes him in the side. “Even enhanced hearing can’t make out anything that muffled, Brock.”

 

He turns his face toward her. “I said that I fucking hate this triple agent mess.”

 

She grimaces. “Hopefully it won’t be for much longer.”

 

He reaches over and squeezes her hand. “I know. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

 

She nods. “I hope so. So what is it this time?”

 

This time it’s him that grimaces. “I have to arrest your dad.”

 

Jamie’s eyes go wide. “Oh, this isn’t gonna end well. What trumped up charges are they gonna use?”

 

“They’re sending an Asset after Fury. They’re gonna spin something off that.”

 

Jamie shoots up straight.“Asset?” She grabs his shoulder. “You’re sure that’s the word they used?”

 

Brock nods. “Heard it straight from Pierce himself. Actually think he said _the_ Asset at one point.”

 

Jamie smiles, sudden and bright, and smacks a kiss on his head before she leaps off the bed and heads for the closet.

 

“What?” Brock rolls over and shoves himself up into a sitting position.

 

“Babe, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity since the day you were born. I’m not gonna miss my chance.” She hefts her duffle bag over one shoulder and a guitar case - that he knows contains her favorite rifle - in the other hand. She kisses him and rests her forehead against his. “I probably won’t see you again until this is all over. I love you. Stay alive.”

 

He chuckles. “You’re the boss.”

 

The Triskelion falls. Jamie’s words burn more painfully than they ever have, enough to make her vision black out and pull her focus from Captain America and the Winter Soldier. By the time she can think of anything beyond _pain pain pain_ , she has to frantically search for them.

 

She finds them on the bank of the river - the Winter Soldier dragging Captain America out of the river - and her heart soars. Then, he leaves. Jamie hesitates - her hip still throbs - then curses under her breath. It would seem callous to most outside of their world, but… if Brock is dead, there’s nothing she can do to help him; if he’s alive, they know how to get messages to each other. Her uncle on the other hand…

 

She follows the Soldier.

 

He doesn’t confront her until two days later as he leaves the museum.

 

He pins her to the dank wall of a nearby alley. “Who are you?”

 

She doesn’t struggle. She smiles sadly. “You’ll remember. It’s no fun if I tell you.”

 

“I know you.” He sounds unsure.

 

“You know me.”

 

He takes a breath and releases her. “I’m safe with you.”

 

She gulps and blinks away her tears. “Yeah,” she grasps and squeezes his left hand, “and I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to you.”

 

He cocks his head to the side. “Could you have done it before?”

 

She grimaces. “Not if I wanted to get both of us out alive.”

 

He nods. “Then I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

* * *

 

2015

 

Three years… it takes her three whole years to track Fury down after the Triskelion. She hasn’t heard from Brock once, but his words are still black against her skin. She stows away on his helicarrier, but the chaos of Sokovia breaks out before she can confront him.

 

She has the grace to wait until everyone is safely on board before storming up to him. “Fury!”

 

He turns slowly. “Well, look who decides to grace us with her presence.”

 

“I couldn’t find you, you asshole,” she growls. “It took me this long to catch up with you.”

 

Fury just smirks.

 

Jamie jabs a finger in his chest. “Wipe that damn look off your face and tell me where the fuck my husband is, or I swear I will throw you off this fucking carrier.”

 

Fury gets an odd expression on his face and he gently pushes her hand down. “Jamie… I…. he… I know you were there when the Triskelion fell. He didn’t make it out out, honey.”

 

 

“Holy shit,” Clint mutters, “I didn't even know Fury _had_ a soft side. Can we keep her?”

 

At his side, Nat chuckles. “It’s more likely to be the other way around.”

 

Clint looks at her skeptically.

 

Nat nods toward the blonde glaring at Fury. “She's the reason you got to keep me. So it's more like you'd better hope she wants to keep all of us.”

 

“So you know her?”

 

Natasha ignores him, watching the taller woman closely.

 

 

Jamie goes very still. “Nick, my words didn’t fade.”

 

“Say _what_?”

 

Jamie lifts the hem of her shirt, revealing stark black words. “They kinda flickered for a few days, but…”

 

“Jamie….”

 

The blood drains from her face. “You really don’t have him?”

 

“We really don’t have him.”

 

It’s the closest in her life she’s ever come to passing out. She gets lightheaded and her vision blurs, and she would definitely have hit the deck if a pair of strong arms hadn’t caught her from behind.

 

Steve lowers her newcomer gently onto the nearest crate. “Miss, are you okay?”

 

Jamie’s ensuing laughter is nothing short of hysteria. It takes her several minutes to get herself under control. When she finally calms enough to look up, Natalia is smirking at her over Steve’s shoulder.

 

Her smirk grows into a full fledged grin when Jamie meets her eyes. “Lesson one.” the redhead says.

 

“Natalia,” Jamie smiles sadly, “I regret ever teaching you that.”

 

She shrugs. “It’s Natasha now,” she says, “and I wouldn’t have survived if you hadn’t.”

 

“She was your teacher?” Clint asks.

 

Nat smiles at him, a genuine smile this time. “She’s the reason I didn’t shoot you the day we met.”

 

Clint grins at Jamie. “Thanks for that, I guess.”

 

Fury steps back toward them then. “I don’t have any resources to spare to help you find him, but you can have whatever I have access to to get him back when you do.”

 

Jamie nods at him once, and he walks away.

 

“Who are you looking for?” Nat asks.

 

“Someone very dear to me.”

 

“The Soldier?” Nat asks hesitantly.

 

Jamie and Steve both look at her sharply.

 

She shrugs. “They sent him to continue my training, after you escaped.”

 

Jamie huffs a mirthless chuckle. “Of course they did. But no,” she points over their shoulders, “I found him three years ago.”

 

Steve spins so fast he looks like a cartoon.

 

Bucky stands there grinning with a rifle slung over his shoulder. “Hey, punk.”

 

“You fucking jerk!” Steve tackles him.

 

“Language!” The rest of the Avengers call gleefully.

 

Several minutes pass, during which time Nat somehow manages to extricate the rifle from the tangle of supersoldier limbs, before Steve and Bucky manage to get back into a mostly upright position. They are both still leaning on each other like their lives depend on on it, and Jamie secretly thinks that’s probably the truth.

 

Bucky turns to Jamie. “First order of business, did Fury have your soulmate, маленький?”

 

“Hydra,” Jamie bites out harshly.

 

Bucky nods. “We’ll find him.”

 

Jamie nods back.

 

“Second order of business, did you introduce yourself to the punk yet?”

 

Jamie rolls her eyes. “I was getting there, but _someone_ had to make a dramatic entrance.”

 

Bucky grins unrepentantly. “Stevie, meet your daughter, Jamie.”

 

If Bucky weren’t holding him, Steve would have crashed to the deck when he fainted.

* * *

  


2016

 

At the sight of the scars on his face, which Jamie assumes likely travel the length of his body, Jamie does two thing simultaneously. First, she orders Friday to call Helen Cho. Second, she vows to kill every Hydra operative she ever comes in contact with more brutal methods than she has so far.

 

She tells Tony to drop her right in front of Brock.

 

Tony’’s grip on her arms tightens. “You sure?”

 

“ _Now_ , Stark.”

 

Tony sighs, but obeys.

 

Jamie land in a crouch less than 5 feet from Brock. She stands slowly, hands palm out in front of her. “Stand down, soldier.”

 

Brock freezes. “Jamie?”

 

She scrunches her nose as she takes a small step toward him. “Can’t say I’m a huge fan of the new uniform.”

 

Brock just stares.

 

Another step. “Please don’t make me put you on your ass in front of the Avengers.”

 

Brock swallows visibly. “The scars… I can’t… my words. Can’t see ‘em. Thought you were… Jamie?”

 

She takes another step forward. “I’m here.”

 

Brock shakes his head. “The things they’ve made me do the last few years -”

 

“Are not on you,” Jamie interrupts, “not any more than anything me or Bucky or Nat did for them for all those years. Those things are on them.” She takes another step forward and rests her hand on his cheek. “ You’re done with them. I’ve got you.”

 

Brock slumps against her as if he was held up by strings that were suddenly cut. He buries his face in the crook of her neck. She’s never been more grateful for her superior strength.

 

“Let’s get you home, soldier,” she whispers.

 

“You’re the boss,” he mumbles into her neck.

 

Helen is waiting when they get back to the facility. She frowns sympathetically once they strip him down. “This is gonna take a while.”

 

Jamie shrugs. “We’ve got time.”

 

Seven hours later, Brock steps out of the Cradle, minus the scars. Upon close inspection, Jamie decides he’s less scarred now than he was the day they met.

 

“What was your next target?” Nat asks.

 

“Some biological weapon at a lab in Lagos. They’ll send someone else,” Brock answers, absently running his fingers over the once-again visible words at his waist. Looking up at Jamie beside him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so beautiful.

 

“Stark already pulled some strings to get it moved,” Jamie interjects.

 

“So now what?” Sam asks.

 

Jamie grins. “Now? Now we hunt the bastards down.”

**Author's Note:**

> Что ты называешь, маленький - What are you called, little one?  
> маленький - little one  
> Как мне позвонить - What am I to call you?  
> Что вы называете - What are you called?  
> Вы ответите на вопрос - You will answer when asked a question.


End file.
